Renaissance Fairs and Friendly Affairs
by Aikaro
Summary: Just some fluff where Olga and Kevin realize their feelings for each other. Small fandom, thought I'd contribute. Song Olga performs is "Promise Me" by The Birthday Massacre. Enjoy! (Rated M for later chapters)
1. Coming to Terms

**Disclaimer: I do not own Gothic Sports nor any of the characters.**

The chill of that winter night was not merciful to those on the football field. It raised bumps on Olga's arms, forcing her to stay aware of her surroundings. Not that she really had to be; the ball was far gone from her position, being dribbled under Alexia's foot towards the end of the field. Behind her, Filiz was guarding their side's goal, rather diligently, though the ball was, again, nowhere near them. To her left, Leon was bent over forward, practically coughing up blood. His lungs never really forgave him for all that smoking, and though he quit for Anya's team, it was obvious the tobacco had already taken its toll. Ignoring the hacking sounds coming from her left, Olga perked up as the ball changed direction and was heading her way. Kevin was dribbling the ball furiously towards Olga's end of the field, but she wasn't going to let him past her. She crouched into running position, and sprinted towards him. Alexia was trying to catch up with him, but he was too far ahead. Their only hope now was Olga.

"Watch out Kev, I'm comin' for ya!" She shouted at her friend as soon as she was within his earshot. He chuckled and found himself at a stall when she blocked him from the goal, trying to kick the ball out from under his feet. They both wore smiles, despite the cold and dread. Left and right they stepped, attempting to force the other to release the ball and fall back. Like any other practice, they were casual about how they played, and even playfully aggressive, but it was much to Anya's dismay.

"Come on, you two," came Anya's shrill screams from the side of the field, "Pick it up! You're not here to mess around!"

Delia gave the huffed out team captain a hand on her shoulder to ease her into a state of calmness.

Olga's foolish mistake was to turn towards Anya as she was being lectured. Her opponent took the opportunity and kicked the ball to his teammate, Hannes, forcing the scrimmage to continue in realistic motion.

"Hey!" Olga lunged for the ball, but Kevin grabbed her from behind and she laughed as she struggled out of his grasp. "Foul! Foul, coach!" She turned to Delia, still giggling, and the coach just shrugged and observed the ball.

Kevin soon found it hard to restrain her and let go, "Hey now, I couldn't let you go after that ball!" he laughed along with his friend, their playful behavior never ceasing to amaze the others.

"You're so full of it!" she pushed him by the shoulders, but it only carried little weight, seeing how big he was compared to her. They restrained themselves as Anya scolded them for not concentrating, but did not cease their giddy nature, even long after she rejoined Delia on the sidelines.

The scrimmage continued for some time, past the setting of the sun, and kicking the ball in the field lights grew tiring. Soon the team was given permission to pack up their things and leave for their homes. Kevin stood by his best friend's side and waited for her to finish packing her things, watching her slender fingers confirm that her belongings were all stored in her messenger bag. His eyes traced her shapely legs rise from their crouched position, her long, black hair falling back over her shoulder to reveal her flawless face. Thinking of her as more than a friend, however, was something he knew he couldn't do. There was no way she saw him as anything romantic, not in but his fantasies. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind as she turned to him, smiling.  
"Ready to go?" She asked him, eager to get out of the cold and into the warmth of the car. He nodded in response and grabbed his bag before leading her off the field to the parking lot. There, they twisted through the maze of automobiles until they approached her SUV. Throwing their bags in the back was difficult; it was already full of the gear for their band, as well as supplies to set up a tent at the Renaissance fair. Kevin kept his bag with him in the passenger seat, and Olga finished rearranging the trunk before hopping in the driver's seat and turning on the ignition.

The car ride to Kevin's house was never different from the usual. Bass-heavy gothic music was close to blowing out the car's speakers, as they laughed together about the day's pleasures and excitements. Whether or not they were romantic, he simply enjoyed being with her. Their inseparable friendship that began farther than their memories cared to know made them practically soul mates. But if he could enjoy himself in her company like this, why did he find himself urging for more?

She glanced over at him after her bout of giddiness ceased, sensing something was on his mind. His eyes averted hers, for fear that she might somehow be able to catch what he was thinking, and he just stared at the traffic lines he could see passing under the car through the windshield. She focused on the road, but kept a wary watch on him out of the corner of her eye.

She saw their friends standing by their cars out on the street before she even glimpsed Kevin's driveway. Partially glad that they were not alone anymore, Kevin eagerly hopped out before Olga even finished braking and ran over to unlock the door to his garage. Friends eagerly helping, Olga unloaded the band's gear out of the car and hauled it all into the garage, which was already set up to host this number of people and instruments. He was so excited to be reunited with his drum set that he almost dropped the snare as he carried it to its new resting place. In the past, they had gathered to play music at Olga's house; however, since her family moved into an apartment with little room, the posse was forced to relocate. It was not a big change, as her old house was close enough to this one that the others did not have to plan new routes. This made things a little easier in their all-too-hectic lives. Olga couldn't help but let out a chuckle as Kevin struggled with the bass. Its weight overpowered him, and without assistance from the singer he would've most likely united his face with the wall.

When he finally pieced together his set and sat down, the others had almost finished unpacking, and his eye caught the girl testing her guitar, weight shifted to one side and hip thrust out the other, in that position, he could never understand, that girls seemed to find quite comfortable. Her tongue poked out slightly to the side as she struggled to adjust the chords, little frustrated grunts softy vibrating through her skull as she attempted to find the sound she was looking for. Once found, the sound rippled through the garage, and the others stopped to look in her direction, cheering as it was confirmed her instrument survived the move. She turned around with her face lit up in delight, and he shot her an equally broad smile to show his support for her success.

After everyone was settled in, the group commenced the purpose of their gathering: to play music. With an hour passing, running through all their regular songs, a suggestion was made by the bassist to hear Olga finally sing on the cover they had been working on. Uncertain and nervous, she glanced at her friend for support in a decision, and his expression spoke for her to go for it. Believing him was the force that grabbed the microphone and readied the guitar, taking in a deep breath before the synth started.

Her eyes became focused on a speck of dirt on the garage door, prepared to start at the synth's end and the drumming's start. Kevin watched, sticks firmly grasped, listening for his cue, but not taking his eyes off her back. Her weight shifted back and forth between left side, right side, left side again as he could practically see her nerve-wracked thoughts. He tried to send her some positive vibes, hoping she would somehow feel more confident upon receiving them.

It seemed to work; as he began drumming, she took her cue and brought the lyrics out of her mind into the microphone.

_We don't know what time we'll be there_

_But we won't show up till later_

This was the first time in a long time he had truly been able to experience her voice. Under normal circumstances, with the radio playing in the car and such, she jammed along, but not with the heart she was expressing now. There was not much else he could do but focus on keeping the beat, as it was the most intense sound of the song.

_It will all look so much nicer_

_After all of us arrive_

Her small vibrato at the last word ran over his head like silk, bringing his thoughts to the eastern countries, where voices played with lifts and suppressions such as that to tell tales of the old.

_Promise me to pass the time_

_Dance with me on plastic tears_

His thoughts stopped.

_Kiss me We won't feel alone_

His heart skipped.

_Till morning when we disappear_

Her lips uttering these verses did not ease his want to be with her.

_Though we all want to be noticed_

_There's no need for competition_

Her words kept striking him, like blows from a sword. He always knew the words to these songs, why were they only really affecting him now? He pondered this as he watched her hips sway, indicating she was immersed in the role after all.

_Cause there's just no way of knowing_

_Where the camera points tonight_

The amplification of the strings, the synths, the voice, rattled his ribcage until he could no longer differentiate his heart beat from the beat of the ballad. Her hair swayed with her hips, and she became a hypnotic dance, pleasing to the eye and easing for the soul. Every line she sang popped a single thought into his head.

_Promise me to pass the time_

Always.

_Dance with me on plastic tears_

Forever.

_Kiss me We won't feel alone_

We won't.

_Till morning when we disappear_

Never.

Her voice became a whisper now, and he was able to take a break from his position and simply bask in her presence.

_We don't listen to each other_

_Cause we're all too busy talking_

_We'll tell lies about each other_

_Cause the truth is such a bore_

_With the threat of dawn approaching_

_And our interest quickly fading_

_We will stumble home together_

_As we did the night before_

He was back in full swing, making sure the time he kept helped keep her flowing as gorgeously as possible. At her pause she turned around to smile at him, pleased with herself that she was actually enjoying this. He couldn't help but beam at her, and how beautiful she was when she would radiate with self-confidence. He wanted to make sure that she knew she was special. She saw his reaction and beamed even more brightly, feeling like she could conquer the world with that gaze as her guide. She turned back around and continued with the guitar, but her expression was ingrained in his mind, and it drove him to perform at his best. The others could sense the chemistry shared between singer and drummer, and the general aura of the room lifted, so that they flowed together with the energy of a cackling fire, contributing to the center of it all and causing it to rise and fall with a calm pace. Her hesitation long cast aside, she felt freed by this new position, soaking up the confidence her best friend kept giving her. He saw this in her; watched her toned legs move and step with the movement of the chords, watched her delicate fingers twirl up and down the guitar's neck with grace and prestige, watched her determined face almost sucked back into her regular position as the guitarist. He hoped she wouldn't act on it. The heart in her voice was all he wanted, but it was to be over and unused too soon. How he could tell her that, he never bothered to think about, only wishing for her to be able to somehow know that that is what he wanted. He wanted her to be loved, and he wanted to be the one who loved her. She was too precious for this world. Her tough, independent demeanor aside, she was really a fragile crystal who was a foreigner to such compassion and love, as the world so desperately kept it away from her, never allowing her to blossom. This infuriated him, as he wanted so badly for her to grow in the love she so deserved.

One last riff to screech through the room, and the song was done. Sheepishly, she scurried to put her things away, afraid to face the fact that she had just taken lead on their most sought after cover. But the others congratulated her with raving jeers as they, too, began to pack up. This only caused her to curl up farther in her shell, but she opened right back up when her best friend approached her with one of his famous bear hugs. She accepted it with a laugh, and when he let go, she waved goodbye to their friends as they drove away into the night, but still kept an arm on his shoulder. To close the garage door, Kevin had to leave her touch, something he did not particularly want to do. She wondered why the door was still open and realized her hand was preventing him. She pulled her arm back quickly and laced her fingers together behind her, embarrassed. He just smiled at her and went to go pull the garage door down. She watched as his muscular build reached up to grab the string dangling from the bottom of the steel plating, currently resting in a hold on the ceiling. With his height, the pull was no problem, and the door glided down to rest on the concrete. She watched him with eager eyes, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they could share a moment together that was more than a little friendly. They were already practically a kiss away from forming a true relationship. The way they acted, others always seemed to think that the two of them were committed together, but while they were inseparable, their activities were nowhere in the romantic nature.

Both silently wondered to themselves if that would ever change.


	2. All's fair

With the early morning sun peeking over the mountains, spots of light dotted the flat plain that was to host this month's festival. The surrounding nature remained silent, save for the echoes of metal poles clanging and supplies being dragged through the dew. While the main attractions had been set up the night before, it was the turn of individual vendors to begin settling in, as they would only peddle their wares as long as they had rented space.

After swinging by Kevin's house to grab him, Olga was to be one of these clerks, selling their band's new album to their major demographic, youth who identified as 'Goth', as well as hand out flyers with their info and dates of their next gigs. It was great promotion for the band, plus, she reasoned, it gave them an excuse to stay at the fair all day without complaint from their parents. Her friend insisted on taking over the physical labor of the job, carrying things out of the car, etc., and before she could refuse he had already set up the tent. Soon the clacking of stakes being driven into the dirt rang across the field, creating the heartbeat for the whole event.

Next came the table, which they would set up together underneath their shelter. With overworked hands he lost his grip and the end he was carrying ended up smashing into his foot, so much so that he yelped and squeezed his face in pain. Worried, she carefully lowered her side to the ground and ran to her car to grab one of the chairs, as well as a first-aid kit, as he slowly crouched to sit on the grass. In a flash she was back with both essential items and set the chair under the shelter, approximately where it would stay throughout the day, and assisted him in walking back over there. She let him rest there while she finished setting up the stand by herself. After all, there was not much left to do.

Leaning down to place the ice-pack on his affected foot, Kevin found himself mulling over everything that transpired the day before, specifically the emotional spiral that last band practice took him for a ride on. The scenario playing in his head was concocted from theories of how differently this morning could be, had his actions been different after they were left alone together.

"_So… would you like to stay for dinner?"_

"_Oh," it sounded as though her hopes were falling, "I really want to, but my mom's been bugging me all day to help her finish unpacking the dining set." Even with that sad tone, she maintained a gracious smile, and nothing made him calmer than seeing how comfortable she was around him. The best of friends, they were. The best of friends…_

_Klang! Klang! Went her keys. This was the sign that she was ready to leave. He opened the door that led from the garage to the inside of his home, letting her lead the way. By the time she reached the fourth grade she was able to walk through this house with no lights, back when they played aimless games like hide-and-seek, or worked to scare each other during sleepovers with spooky ghost stories and midnight jumps. Every piece of furniture, every frame on the wall, every angle she looked at, contained a memory of their childhood together, and it was bittersweet to be forced to live on the other side of the city from the place she knew so well._

_When Olga reached the door, she turned around to give her friend their traditional parting: a hug. But this hug, this squeeze felt different now. He tensed up and hesitated before approaching her, something she found quite odd. Why, just earlier today he was not afraid to grab her in a playful attempt to allow his teammate to score a goal. His eyes were confused, and she tried to process what gears were turning in his little black-haired head through them._

_He didn't want her to leave, not yet. He wanted to stop her, to grab her arm as she headed out the door, to finally share his confusion with her, in hopes that she could assist him in decoding his own frazzled thoughts. But that was his specialty, wasn't it, to not act upon his desires. He merely parted with her and reassured her that he would be ready in the morning to help set up the band's stall. With that, it was too late for him to reconsider his actions, and he watched as she sped out of his driveway, until her taillights disappeared around the corner and behind an old tree._

How would this morning be any different, had he worked up his courage? If she rejected him, this whole situation would be awkward, and their friendship could be compromised, a fate he considered worse than death. If she accepted him, it's not like she would've stayed, she had to go work with her mother. It would have ended the night on a strange note, and this morning would probably be no different. He pushed his theories to the back of his head with a shake of his pitch-black locks and compromised with himself that focusing on the present was what truly mattered. _Besides,_ he told himself, _if everything works out today, maybe I'll tell her tonight when she sleeps over._

The slam of a pile of heavy boxes on the table before him startled the boy, and he looked up to see his best friend eyeing him with such curiosity. His cheeks shamed roses at the idea that somehow, she knew.

"While you're sitting on your butt," she teased him, "mind setting up the display? I gotta take care of one last thing."

About to protest her comment on his actions, his mouth was open, but she anticipated this action and had already turned away, skipping all the way back to her car.

He called after her, "Wait, where are you going? I thought we already unloaded everything!"

"Just one more thing I gotta do!"

_Who am I kidding, I'll never understand her_. The Swiss-Army knife flew out of his pocket by his hand, and fit oh-so-well in his palm as he used it to open the boxes his vending partner left for him. Most of the other vendors were still far from finished in their set-up process, but this was due to the fact that most of them sold much more merchandise than this tiny, underground band's stall. By now he no longer needed the ice-pack, nor the chair, and stood on his feet to prepare the table for the sale of their music.

50 CDs stacked in piles of ten and an equal number of flyers later, he felt accomplished, and stood in front of the stand to admire his work. Before he could fix an imperfectly lined up stack, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around to a sight he was not prepared for.

"Ta-da!"

She spread her arms and twirled around so he could get a better look, eager to know his opinion.

"Well? What do you think?"

Part of their relationship required that all outfits pass best-friend inspection before being considered anything worthwhile. But it seemed he was at a complete loss for words. Still, she waited excitedly for his approval.

One would think he would be accustomed to her beauty by now, especially in her favorite style of dress, but she never ceased to leave him agape. Her new dress was, of course, in the Renaissance style, emerald green, the dark kind that complemented her midnight hair, and thin gold trimming across all the accents and curves of her body. Her sleeves were wide and draped, so that they angled from the elbow to the wrist in an opening, with a light gray vine that almost blended right in with the overall green base. Silver bangles chimed up and down her forearms, and in her locks, a small hairpiece of gold that twisted up her single small braid, with a charm of a fairy-winged creature dangling from its bottom.

"You look… Gorgeous…"

That was all he could muster, before nervously chuckling at his own reaction. She took the compliment with suppressed sounds of happiness, and grabbed his arm as she led him back to the table with her.

"Come on, the fair's about to open! Time to go on duty!"


	3. Fortunes Told

The job was almost disappointing, as if they had not expected such a dead outcome the first day. By noontime, sales racked up to about three discs sold, and as that Saturday morning progressed rather slowly into afternoon two band-mates arrived to relieve Olga and Kevin of their duty. It was just in time, too; the two were so excited for the fair and bored by their responsibility that they almost abandoned the stall. The morning had been a slow run, anyway, as the majority of younger people attended the fair in the evenings, when the festivities were planned. This is exactly what they hoped to participate in: the evening activities, starting with the opening of the brewery.

Across the fairgrounds they walked, with her holding onto his arm the whole way to ensure they did not become separated in the sea of festive people. Next to his faithfully-dressed companion, Kevin stood out a bit in his black t-shirt and worn jeans, but this did not bother either of them. It was more in her style to dress in Renaissance gear than his. Taking in the environment in all their senses caused them both to remain comfortably silent. Sights, great decorations and replicas of a village lost to history. Smells wafting through the frosty air kissed their noses and begged fairgoers to follow them to the source. The mindless chatter was lulled and overrun by sounds of strings and metal and vendors advertising their wares to passerby. Footsteps on uneven, packed terrain whispered reminders to be wary of their stepping. The taste of the winter breeze on her lips caused Olga to constantly pay them attention, if only to make sure they did not chap apart, but simply accepted it as a sign of her favorite season. Every year these two experienced these sensations, and every year they dreaded the day the festivities were packed up and carried away, forgotten until the next winter.

Having spotted a fortune-telling tent, Olga suggested they stop to rest there. Without much of a choice, he complied, welcoming the break for his still-sore foot from his weight. They broke away from the river of bodies to enter the rather small pavillion and took the seats arranged for guests. In any other place of entertainment here, the decorations were over-the-top in attempting to recreate the atmosphere of a Renaissance-era village. However, other than the scarves adorning the walls and posters of various symbols affiliated with fortunes, this tent was very plain and did not transport them to the magic of a gypsy wagon. A tired employee swiftly entered through the back flap of the shelter and took her seat without even a glance at her customers. Olga wondered if, unlike them, no one was available to take her shift, and if that was what caused her to seem impatient. Her companion didn't seem to take notice, and simply took this chance to rest in the chair. She, however, was eager to learn her fortune, and paid the vendor for a reading of Tarot cards.

The teller shuffled the cards so mechanically that the raven-haired girl could almost smell the oil needed for this tin man's heart. Kevin glanced over at the shuffling without moving his head, his body facing the mess of people outside. He had been to these types of attractions before, and evry time he had his palm read or cards interpreted the riches they promised never materialized, only empty pockets and willpower to walk past the ever-expensive swords display with dignity. Olga never really tried her hand at this sort of parlor-trick before and hoped to see for herself if the stars really did hold answers for her.

Suddenly the cards were slammed down one by one, each turning upwards and being placed in a curious cross-like pattern in front of the client. The paying customer attempted to get a good look at the cards on the table, but it was all in Latin. There was one, however, that stood out to her with great interest. It portrayed a man and a woman together under the sun, hands almost touching but still too far apart, with a sort of angelic figure behind them, seemingly trying to bind them together. She recognized this as a depiction of the biblical parents of all humans.

Kevin leaned over to look at the cards laid out in front of them and studied each one quickly. His studies of Tarot readings were a quick research session and some card collecting, but he knew enough to understand what the cards meant. He looked at his friend, who was glowing with anticipation to have her fortune read, and decided the thoughts racing through his mind were better left as thoughts. The outside fair provided him with a perfect distraction as he stared out at it, trying to deafen his right ear so he didn't have to hear what the cashier was about to say.


	4. Temperamental

They were back into the flow of the fair, leaving the fortune telling booth after hearing what the cards had in store for Olga. She was glowing out of all ends of her body, clearly ecstatic at what the fortune teller told her. He felt happy for her, he really did. But it was not a fortune he particularly wished to hear for his friend. He saw her grab his arm with both hands and excitedly look up at him, melting his hard heart with her optimistic smile.

"Hey, what do you think that fortune teller meant, huh?" she asked her friend, holding onto him as they trekked across the fairgrounds. "You really think there's romance in my future?"

She watched his face fall a bit and his eyes concentrate ahead before he answered.

"Who knows."

His light shrug and short answer were clear indications that he didn't want to talk about it. But why? Her eyes tried to meet his as they walked but he avoided them more and more, until she stopped walking and forced him to as well. She would be damned if she would let him keep something from her.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"What're you talking about?"

She crossed her arms, letting go of him so he could face her.

"Ever since I got my fortune told, you've been acting really sulky," she took his hand in hers, concerned, but he flushed and twitched as if to take his hand away. Instead, he gripped her delicate fingers in his palm and took a deep breath, feeling pulled in by those amber eyes that anxiously awaited his answer. She wouldn't stop looking at him, and for once he wished she would. This girl was his best friend in the whole world, practically an extension of him. If he confessed any feelings, it could break everything, and push her away. Besides, it wasn't like she was going anywhere soon. He had time. But for now, he had to think up an excuse for his actions. He gently led her by the hand to the side of the walkway, so as not to block traffic. So as not to be interrupted.

"Alright look," he had her attention, he might as well tell her what was on his mind. Well, not all of it. "I just think that, maybe…"

He struggled to phrase his concerns in a more simple way, still unsure himself of the why or the how. A group of boys hollering near them should've distracted her, but her focus was unchanged. He scoffed at their rowdiness and looked over his shoulder to get a good view of them. Rowdy assholes. They couldn't keep their mouths shut for a god damn second. He felt her gently shake his arm to get his attention back to her, and he complied.

"'Think maybe' what?" she prompted.

"Well, the fortune said you would find love in a new place, right?" He struggled just to think those words, let alone say them. "I mean… does it have to be 'new', y'know? Maybe… Maybe it's someone you already know."

Really? That's what he was so worried about? She chuckled at his concern. "Well I mean the fortune's just a gimmick, it's not gonna be accurate-"

Again, they were interrupted by the jeering of a group of boys, and Olga could hear them say something about her dress, along with some unpleasant words. She sort of hung her head and looked at her clothing, shutting herself in. Kevin couldn't bear to watch her curl up back into herself like that; he'd seen that too many times. Going to the fair and wearing a traditional dress was Olga's favorite thing to do, and he would be damned if a group of local assholes tried to take that away from her. He turned to their direction, and recognized them. A group of teenage boys, slightly younger than he and Olga, who only came to fairs for the beer, and the laughs they got when they sat back and ridiculed those who genuinely enjoyed the experience. She felt his hand tense up in hers and looked up to see an all-too-familiar angry look. Before she could put a gentle hand to his chest to stop him, he let go of her hand and walked over to the boys. She grabbed for his arm again but missed, and hesitantly caught up with him, slightly behind him.

"Hey man, what do you want," one jested at him, garnering laughs from the others. She saw that Kevin didn't take the greeting well, and put a hand on his shoulder and spoke softly.

"Come on, Kev, let's go."

Apparently, the bullies found her comment funny, and chuckled to their hearts content, before the leader put a hand up to stop them.

"Sounds like the lady's got you whipped," he smiled at Kevin, and the others focused their attention to the girl behind him. Some of the boys began jeering at her and whistling, and the one nearest to her reached out to grab her arm, but she quickly dodged him and stepped fully behind Kevin now, keeping extra close to him. Her level of comfort in this situation was basically zero; all she wanted to do was enjoy the brewery with her best friend. When he saw the boy reach out for Olga, Kevin made a swift move as if to attack the boy, causing the boy to flinch and pull away from the girl. He then turned to face the leader.

"I'll give you to the count of three to take back that stuff you said about her."

His teeth were gritted, and he had an almost sadistic smile on his face, something Olga remembered seeing before, when Kevin tried to break an opponent's arm during a football match. The boys tried again to grab Olga's arm, but Kevin pushed her back to keep her out of their reach. He then grabbed one of those boys by the collar and lifted him of the ground, before he heard her call out to him.

"Kevin, stop!"

The crowds of people just kept shuffling by, ignoring the squabble happening in its own little corner of the path. Their noise was all Olga heard, as well as all the scenarios running through her head, different ways in which this situation could go. Kevin could start a brawl; he'd either scare the kids away, or get him and Olga kicked out of the fair for sure. The boys could make the first move; but what could she do then? Even if she helped him, they'd be outnumbered. If they walked away, the boys would feel like they had a victory, and even Olga disliked that idea. But the idea of him getting hurt, it was too painful for her to consider, and so she decided to take matters into her own hands and pull him out of the situation. She quite forcefully took him by the shoulder and pulled him back, then stepped around him so that she was now clearly visible to the boys, standing directly in front of her best friend. They shared a collective 'oooh' as they watched her do this. She took a deep breath and spoke calmly.

"Look, I know you think this Renaissance thing is stupid," she indicated the fair behind her, "but if you think it's so lame, why even waste your time coming here?"

When she finished speaking, she turned around and took Kevin's hand, leading him away from the boys and back into the flow of traffic. She slowed her pace and he caught up beside her, still holding her hand. She wasn't ready yet to talk to Kevin about his temper, so they walked along quietly, her staring ahead while he kept glancing at her, feeling ashamed for boiling over the top back there. They made it to the brewery, which had opened but five minutes prior, and packed in along with the other patrons to sample different brews recreated from old recipes, some dating back centuries. They both wondered how they would continue their discussion of her fortune, after that little ordeal.


End file.
